


Your Kiss (like the devil's got your hand)

by DarlingNikki



Series: November Prompts [4]
Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Bathroom Sex, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Punk Show, dive bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2588624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingNikki/pseuds/DarlingNikki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Kate and Richie had met before, in a dive bar, when Kate's trying hard to forget everything wrong in her life and just be someone else?  Richie and her have an instant connection, and it leads to more firsts for Kate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Kiss (like the devil's got your hand)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for prompt five for my November Prompts challenge, Punk Show. So of course, I wrote smut. It's what I do well, apparently. Also, if anyone's wondering where prompt four is, it's a non fandom poem posted over on my tumblr.  
> This fandom has ate my brain over the last week, by the way... I'm not sorry. If someone wants to talk/drop prompts/whatever, I can be found at tumblr [here.](http://pinkglitterygoth.tumblr.com/)

She can feel it in her veins. The woman on stage screams, low and guttural, and if you pay attention you can hear the lyrics, feel her words running through your body. Is this what being alive feels like, she wonders? She's bored, but her best friend had convinced her to sneak out of the house through her bedroom window to come with her to a shitty dive bar the next town over. Kate's not sure why set lets Amanda drag her into these situations, but despite everything, she's Kate's best friend, and that's reason enough Kate supposes. Beside, the house isn't the same anymore, not since Mom died in the accident. It feels like a tomb, and Kate just wants to do something different, be someone different, even if it's just for one night.

She just feels out of place here. The lights are dim, you can barely make out all of the artwork hung haphazardly on the walls, Kate keeps staring at a mounted deer head framed by crossbones. For some reason she can't take her eyes off it, it's probably the fact that the deer head is mangy and covered in fake blood. It's pretty gross looking. The entire bar is pretty gross looking. She'd braved the bathroom when she and Amanda first got there, the walls were covered with stickers and scribbles left behind by other occupants. _Nikki and Ashley <3's Cutthroat, _and _Call Liz for fun._ She'd scrubbed her hands thoroughly, and hoped that it was cleaner than it appeared.

Amanda had ran off with some dude, covered in colorful tattoos from his hands to throat, and Kate hadn't seen her since, so she's just passing time staring at the walls, while she tries not the feel self-conscious while surround by a bar full of people who look like they belong here looking askance at the young looking girl in jeans and a baby pink shirt. Amanda's her ride, and she'll come back...eventually, she just runs on her own time, and Kate should have known that this was what was going to happen. _Should've, would've, could've,_ she thinks to herself.

She can feel someone's eyes on her.

She surreptitiously looks around, and her she catches the bluest set of eyes she's ever seen, hidden behind a thick pair of glasses. The guy is tall, handsome, and dressed way too well for this particular bar. He's in a black suit, with his shirt buttoned up all the way to his throat, and no tie. He looks like a bible salesman. He smirks, and she looks away. Her face feels hot, and she knows she's blushing bright red. She hopes the lights are dim enough that he can't see. She looks back up at the deer head.

“Eyes find eyes.”

She whips around, and there stands the man right behind her. “What?”

“Eyes find eyes, it means you can always feel someone eyes directed at you because you're feeling their energy directed at you.”

“Oh,” she smiles uncertainly at him, “You may look more out of place here than I do.”

“Yeah, just a bit.” He pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

She watches, and impulsively asks, “Can I get one of those?” He holds out the pack and she takes one. She leans forward and he holds the lighter to the tip and lights it. She sucks in and coughs, she's never smoked before. She'd never took Amanda up on offers to sneak out until tonight, and she's never flirted with older men before. She's a brand new girl tonight.

“You're not inhaling.” He watches her lips wrap around the filter of the cigarette again.

“I'm not a smoker.” She shrugs, “I just felt like trying something new.”

He laughs, “Here's to trying something new.” 

“So my name's Kate. What's yours?”

“Richie. Nice to meet you, Kate. Can I get you a drink?” He nods over at the bar.

She's never drank before either, but she doesn't tell him that. Instead she says, “Yes.”

She flicks the ashes from the end of the cigarette carefully into an ashtray on a nearby table. She leans against the wall and watches him go to the bar, hand over some money, and then he walks up to her holding a bottle filled with a brown liquid and two glasses.

He sits them down at the table, and pulls out a chair for her. She smiles, and primly sits down. He pours two shots and then slides one across the table towards her. He picks his up, gulps it down, and slams the glass down on the table. “Gonna drink yours?”

She blushes again and carefully picks up the glass and mimics his motions. It burns all the way down her throat, and she can't help but scrunch up her face in disgust at the taste. She wipes at her mouth, and he's chuckling at her. “Looks like you're not a drinker, either.”

“Yeah, not really. But I'm trying new things tonight?”

“Right.” He pours them both another shot. “Let's do this one together.”

She nods and picks up her glass, and when he drinks, she drinks as well. This one goes down easier, but she still can't help but grimace at the taste of it. He pours himself another drink, and downs it. Kate blinks, the world is slightly wavering, and she idly wonders where the hell Amanda ran off to. She's not seen her in a while, but at least she's got a handsome guy keeping her company. She doesn't feel so awkward now, and she's hyper aware of the man sitting across the tiny table from her. Their knees are close enough to gently brush against one another under the table, and she can feel how warm he is every time they touch.

“So, Kate, what's got a good girl like you in this hole?”

She giggles, unsure of why, “Snuck out with a friend, but she ditched me, and she's my ride home.”

“That's unkind of her. So why'd you sneak out?”

“Needed to get away. Home feels like a tomb, right now.” Her words are slurring slightly, and she seems to be dropping the subject of every sentence she says, and she's probably said too much. She doesn't care right now. “Pour me another, please?” 

“Sure, babydoll.” She downs it, and this time she manages not to grimace.

“So?” She chirps, “You're out of place here too, so why're you here?”

“Business, not pleasure.” He grins boyishly at her, “My brother's meeting someone and didn't want to come along.”

“What kind of business?”

His tone is cold when he replies, “None of yours.”

She blinks and looks down at her hands, playing idly with the shotglass, suddenly nervous when before she was surprisingly comfortable with this man, “Oh.”

“Sorry, I'm sorry, that came out mean.” He pours another shot, “I didn't mean to upset you.”

She looks back up, and his face is soft, remorseful. Their eyes meet again, and she's struck by how blue his eyes are. She leans forward and presses her lips to his. It's completely chaste, just a meeting of her lips to his. She pulls back and looks at him, his eyes are closed and he's completely still, she leans forward again and presses her lips to his again. She's slightly off center this time, and she catches his bottom lip between hers. They sit there carefully, pressing their lips against each other for a few scant seconds, before she pulls back again. Richie's eyes blink open, and he seems to drink her in. She blurts out, “It's okay. No worries.”

“What made you do that?”

“I just felt like it.” She shrugs.  
He watches her, he looks at her like she's something precious, something he covets. This time he's the one to look away from her. He's not blushing, but he looks unsure, out of his element. It's a cute look on him, and can't help but reach out for his hand. Her fingers trace over his knuckles and over the calluses on his hands, before intertwining with his fingers. “Did you mind?”

“No, not at all.” His fingers grip hers. “Can I kiss you again?”

She can't find the words to say yes, so she nods instead.

He leans forward, and their lips are touching again, but she can feel his tongue running gently at the seam of her lips. Her lips fall open, and then they're french kissing. She's done this before, with Kyle, sneaking in the back of the church, but this is different than Kyle's kisses were. Richie kisses her with intent, he's gentle, and he's not slobbering all over her face. She feels a tingle run down her spine, and she sighs against Richie's mouth. She grips his hand tighter, and she nibbles at his lip caught between hers. He's the one to groan against her lips, after that.

He pulls back, and his other hand reaches up to smooth her hair back from her face, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “You taste sweet.” His blue, blue eyes, that she could fall into right now, darken. “I wonder if you'd taste as sweet everywhere else?” 

Her face is definitely red again. No one's ever said anything like that to her before...but she's loose limbed and curious, and she's pretty sure she left her inhibitions behind with the third shot she took. So she replies, “Want to find out?”

He smirks, and gets out of his chair and pulls her up by where their hands are still intertwined. His free hand grabs the bottle, and he leaves the glasses behind on the table. “Follow me, babydoll.” He pulls her in his wake toward the back of the bar, where the bathrooms are located. They go into the ladies room, and he locks the door behind them.

He takes a deep pull from the bottle. She watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He wordlessly holds the bottle out to her, and she takes a small sip, then another before she sits it on the back of the counter behind her. When she turns back to face him, he's crowding into her space, pressing his lips back to hers. This kiss is once again different, new to her. This kiss is hungry, like he's trying to devour her whole, pressing her back to the counter, and causing a throbbing between her thighs. She meets his kisses artlessly.

His hand untangles from hers, and then his hands snake around her pulling her close. One briefly tangles in her hair; the other traces the line of her spine down over her thin t-shirt. Then both his hand cup her bottom and lift her to sit on the edge of the counter. He pulls away, and she's left panting as he begins to mouth a wet line across her throat. His hands wander, one slides smoothly under her shirt, to unclasp her bra. He pulls away again and looks down at her face, “You good?” 

_Eyes find eyes,_ floats through her thoughts, and she reaches to the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head in one motion. He begins to kiss along her throat again, going lower, while he pulls her bra off and drops it to the floor. He licks one of her nipples, and Kate's head lolls back and she moans.

She can feel his mouth curve pressed against her skin, and his hand plays with the other nipple, rolling it between his callused fingers. Her hips roll up, to press against him, and she can feel a hardness there pressing against her. It feel like fire against her skin, even with the material of his pants and her jeans separating them.

He moves lower, mouthing against her belly button, and she lets her hands fall to his head, combing through his hair. His hands move to her thighs and push them farther apart, then he teases along the boundary of her jeans and her skin. His fingers nimbly undo the button on her jean, then slide the zipper down.

She lets him. In fact, she wraps her legs around him, pulls him close, and uses his body to hold herself up, so that he can pull down her jeans and her panties. The tile of the counter is cold against her body when her bare skin rests against it, and he shuffles back, pulling her pants down to her ankles before he moves back towards her. He plants kisses against the inside of her thighs, and his nose is right against her and he takes a deep breath in and says, “You're wet.”

His words shoot through her, and then his tongue is running against her. He licks and laps, suckles and kisses, and she can't form a coherent thought. Her fingers are pulling against his head, and she squirms against his mouth. It's too much, different than the tentative exploration she's tried late at night with her hands. His hands wrap around her thighs holding her still, holding her in place while his tongue plays her like an instrument.

Her voice sounds foreign to her, gasping and moaning, uncaring of the noises she's making, uncaring of the fact that a simple lock is all that separates them from a bar full of people. She wantonly grinds her face against him, and she can feel something building inside of her. It's building, building, and everything he's doing is pushing her over a steep ledge.

Finally, something in her shatters, and she shrieks. He strokes her thighs as she comes back down to earth, and then pulls away and stands over her, where she's slumped boneless on the counter in the dirty bathroom. He leans down, and kisses her again, and she can taste herself, sweet and musky on his lips.

“What do you know? You do taste sweet everywhere.” He smirks, yet again, and pulls her off the counter. He bends down, and pulls her jeans back up from around her thighs, and while she's busy blushing and fastening them, he picks up her fallen shirt and bra and hands them over to her. She jerkily pulls them back on, and tries to smooth her hair back, but it's sweaty and tangled, and she fears the second she walks out that door everyone will be able to read on her face what she just did with this stranger in a bar bathroom. 

Richie just watches her, drinking straight from the bottle again. 

She turns to walk out, but as she's fumbling with the lock, he presses himself against her back, and nips at her throat. Her hands slip and she leans back into him. He undoes the lock for her, and his hand at the small of her back guides her back out the door. 

The band has stopped playing, and there's a line of impatient looking women waiting just outside the door. She ducks her head, and doesn't meet any of their eyes. Someone lets out a wolf-whistle, shouting, “Get it, girl!”

She's mortified, and starts when someone grabs her wrist. She finally brings her eyes up, and it's Amanda looking shocked, “I've been looking everywhere for you! I was worried, Kate!”

“It's nothing, I just had to get away for a minute.” Kate stutters, and Richie laughs behind her, his voice deep and dark, sending a shiver down her spine.

She turns to look at him, and he says, “Looks like you've found your friend. This is where I leave you then.” She nods, and he bends down one last time to press their lips together again, as chastely as their first kiss had been, then he's walking away, heading towards a shorter man similarly dressed to himself standing by the bar looking pissed off.

She doubts she'll ever see him again.


End file.
